The Visitor
by painfulclarity
Summary: Danny shows up on Martin's doorstep, bearing suitcases. [DM]


**AN:** We don't own the characters; they belong to CBS. Yay for character massacre.

Also, to readers of Perpetual Impetuity? You can find updates up to late February on Too much work to put it up on here as well.

* * *

**THE VISITOR.**

* * *

Martin was watering his spider plant when Danny knocked on the door. Clearly, he didn't know it was Danny at that point; it took a trip across the apartment and a glance through the peephole to determine that.

Danny was holding two large suitcases. He was also wearing a large hat.

Martin sighed. It was going to be a long night. He opened the door. "Hey, Danny."

"Hey, Marty." Danny was grinning, a little sheepishly, at him. "The exterminators are in my kitchen. I have monster rats."

Martin took a step backwards, and sighed again. "You'd better come in."

"I brought pizza," Danny mumbled as he kicked off his shoes. "There's _anchovies _. You like anchovies, right?" He put down his suitcases, and wandered into the kitchen. "You really should redecorate," he mused. "It looks _dingy_."

Martin looked balefully at his dark green walls. He had to admit that Danny might have a point.

Danny popped his head out of the kitchen. "Come _on_," he said impatiently. "You want a drink?"

Martin looked confusedly at the ceiling. "This _is _my apartment, right?"

"Unfortunately," Danny said. "Mine is decorated to much higher standards."

Martin wandered into the kitchen. He was still holding his watering can, he realised. He put it down on the sideboard. "So, lemme get this straight," he said. "The flood in your apartment has dried up. It doesn't smell of damp any more. Nor does it smell of paint. And your window is no longer jammed open. And you're no longer trying to avoid your creepy stalker ex. So, uh, why are you here?"

"Killer rats," said Danny. He sounded very matter-of-fact.

Martin looked enlightened. "Oh, so the rats were real?"

"One of them ran over my leg during the night," Danny explained. "They're getting frisky."

Martin sighed, for the third time, and settled down at the table. "You said there were anchovies on the pizza?"

"Yeah." Danny looked martyred. "Especially for you."

Martin thought this might not be the right time to tell Danny he didn't like anchovies.

"Right," he said. "Thanks."

Danny was busying himself picking bits of anchovy off his slice of pizza. Surreptitiously, Martin did the same, wishing for once in his life that he had a cat. Cats liked fish, right? He thought they did, anyway, unless that was just another myth, like cats liking milk, which was actually totally unhealthy and bad for them, and right, Danny was talking.

"It ran over my_leg_," he said, apparently delighted with this latest development and gesturing expansively with half an anchovy.

"Hey, man, that sucks," Martin commented.

"Yeah, I know." Danny widened his eyes expressively, and picked some excess cheese off Martin's slice of pizza. "Do you have any juice? Orange is good."

Martin stood up, and began to search through the fridge. "Is pulp okay?"

Danny made a face.

"What, you want me to get a tea-strainer out?" Martin waved the juice at Danny.

Danny shrugged. "Feel free."

Martin looked appalled. "I don't think I even_own _a tea strainer!"

"Fine. I guess it'll be okay." Danny went back to his pizza. "The game's on later."

Martin laughed, a little maliciously. "I guess this is your unlucky day, Danny. TV's gone to be repaired."

"You're kidding me. Man, I'm going home once I finish my pizza. The rats and I will watch TV together." Danny took a bite of pizza for emphasis.

Martin shook his head, smiling through a mouthful of cheese. "Be my guest. Or, rather, don't."

Danny attempted to look pitiful. "Come on, man. I'm sorry for dumping myself on you so often. It's not my fault my apartment's messed up."

Martin shrugged, vacantly. "No matter. I have a spare room."

"I know." Danny raised his eyebrows over the pizza. "It's a nice spare room."

Martin frowned, darkly. "Yeah, and you're staying there this time."

Danny looked hurt. "Listen, man, I thought I explained. I got up to pee and got lost in the dark. I thought it was my room. I didn't_notice _you were in the bed I got into."

"We were spooning in the morning," said Martin. It was a slightly painful and embarrassing memory.

"Sam always said we were close," Danny said, with some composure. "How is she, by the way?"

Martin sighed, and looked at the table. "Do you want dessert?"

"Do you have ice cream?"

"Yes," Martin admitted. "Mint chocolate chip. Also, vanilla."

"Good enough for me." Danny sat back, looking satisfied, and then got up in a sudden flurry of activity, beginning to look through Martin's freezer with gusto. After a moment his head popped up again, with a disgusted expression. "Marty, really. Fishcakes in the shape of turtles?"

"Hey, hey, I had a pack of five-year-olds staying here," Martin protested. "My sister has five children under eight."

Danny blanched. "Seriously?"

Martin nodded. "Black sheep of the family," he added, by way of explanation. "She's the reason I'm going to inherit."

Danny gave him a Look. "Right. Here's ice cream." He got up, and found the ice cream scoop. Martin supposed for a moment that he should probably be disconcerted by how well Danny knew his kitchen, but for some reason he wasn't.

"So how long are you planning to stay?" he asked.

Danny shrugged. "Long as the exterminators take to do their business, and then as long as it takes for the traps to clear, and for the stench of death to stop staining the air." He took a bite of ice cream. "That okay?"

Martin nodded resignedly. "Another two weeks, then."

"Thanks." Danny flashed a grateful smile across at him. "Anyway, you know you like having me here. Makes life a little more interesting."

Martin raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, like when you accidentally got in the shower with me."

"It was foggy!" Danny said, loudly. "Come on, man, do I have to explain myself_constantly_?"

Martin sighed, for what felt like the millionth time, and started to stack the plates in the dishwasher. "You want coffee?"

"Yes, please," Danny said. He was grinning.

* * *

The next morning, Danny took half an hour in the bathroom, while Martin hopped around outside, and they were both late for work. Apparently it took him a while to dry his hair. There were a lot of products lying around when Martin finally managed to bust his way in.

At work, Danny sat on Martin's desk, and said loudly, "I drank all your milk this morning. Sorry."

Across the room, Vivian turned to look at them. Jack made a note in his black leather notebook.

"I noticed," Martin said crankily. "I had to drink my coffee black. I kept twitching on the subway."

"Yeah, I could see." Danny paused. "I'll buy some more later, okay?"

"Don't worry," Martin said, turning on his computer. "You'll get the wrong sort. But you can tag along when I buy it."

"You're so generous," Danny said, in a falsetto. Martin had the distinct impression he was fluttering his eyelashes.

"Are you making fun of me?" he enquired crankily.

"Yes," Danny confirmed. "As ever. Except, usually, you don't notice."

Martin shrugged, vacuously. "Oh, okay. You know this case? It's weird. I don't think we're going to solve it."

Danny stood up, letting out a breath. "See, that's what I like about you. Your constantly positive attitude."

"Shut up," Martin said.

Danny went back to his own desk, shaking his head and staring incredulously at Martin. When Martin glanced up again a few moments later, Danny was still looking at him.

* * *

"So what's up with you guys?" Sam said conversationally. "Big gay sex on again?"

"Huh?" Martin said, not really paying attention. "Hey, I think I got a partial match on the fingerprints."

"I said, Danny's living with you again."

"Oh. Right. Yep," Martin agreed, squinting at the computer screen. "Something about his apartment and a rat eating his foot. I don't know, does he look like he's limping to you?"

"Not especially," Sam said. "Maybe he just likes staying at your place."

"Nah, he always complains," Martin said. "Hey Martin, turn up the heat. Hey Martin, you have no food. Hey Martin, stop stealing the covers. Although that was only that one time when he slept in my bed."

"Right," Sam said, eyeing him.

"Hey, I'm not sleeping with him," Martin told her. Poor Sam, he thought. Clearly, she is jealous and missing my rugged good looks. "It's not like that. We're just friends."

"Uh huh," Sam said. Was it Martin's imagination, or did she sound sceptical? "Get on with the database search, Martin."

"Okay," he said compliantly, and hit 'enter'.

* * *

"A little bit to the left," Danny said, Martin's head nestled firmly in his crotch.

Martin shifted slightly. "Danny, I don't see why we had to re-enact it."

Danny tutted, and ran a hand through Martin's hair. "Just like that, baby," he said.

Martin glared up at him.

"Okay, okay, kidding. Seriously, come further towards me." Danny pulled Martin's face further towards him.

"I can't breathe," Martin grumbled into Danny's groin. "You better have clean underwear on, Taylor."

Danny looked disgusted. "Of course I do. Come on, man, quit projecting your own issues onto others. So, right, the missing person and the random guy were seen in an alley like this, except the witness might be a phoney because how the hell could she have seen_your _face?"

"Nope," Sam yelled from the end of the alleyway. "Definitely can't distinguish Martin's features."

"Try from the other end of the alley," Danny instructed.

Sam rolled her eyes, and turned around to walk around the side of the block.

"She could have just walked down the alleyway," Martin objected, his voice slightly muffled.

"Who am I to interpret her crazy mind?" Danny asked.

Martin made a vague noise of dissent.

Danny wriggled. "That tickles."

Martin moved his head back slightly and raised an eyebrow.

"It's true!" Danny objected.

"Hope you don't say that to all the chicks you pick up, Taylor," Martin muttered.

Danny laughed, his voice slightly high-pitched. "Hahaha. Shut up, Martin."

There were footsteps from one end of the alley. They paused, and then hurriedly backtracked. "Danny! What the hell are you-- MARTIN! I know you guys are- oh, God, stop that!"

"We're re-enacting a case, Jack!" Danny yelled.

Martin turned and waved at Jack. He could feel himself blushing slightly.

"Dear Lord," Jack said indistinctly, and wandered away.

* * *

"It's five-thirty and the case is over. Home time?" Danny stuck his head over the wall of Martin's cubicle, grinning widely.

"Hey, you're coming shopping with me first," Martin complained. "Seeing as you ate all my food."

"Well, there wasn't much of it," Danny pointed out. "Just bread and milk and cereal and tofu."

"I can't believe you ate the_tofu_," Martin said, not for the first time.

Danny shrugged. "What can I say? Hunger pangs."

Martin frowned, and gathered his belongings. "Yeah, well, now I have hunger pangs. You stole my sandwich again."

"I was hungry," Danny protested. "It was just lying there. I thought you'd finished!"

"Yeah, well," said Martin grouchily. "What do you want for dinner?"

Danny cocked an eyebrow, and led the way out of the office. "You cooking?"

Martin looked at him guardedly. "I was going to. Why?"

"Because I can't be bothered. I don't know." Danny gestured vaguely. "Pasta?"

"Great, so now I'm his slave," said Martin, half to himself, very bleakly.

"Yeah, and don't you just_love _it?" Smiling, Danny snaked an arm around Martin's waist, grabbing him and pulling him closer to himself.

Martin looked incredulously at him. "Are you touching my ass?"

"Maybe a little," Danny confessed.

"I thought so," Martin said placidly. "Hey, Danny?"

"Yeah?"

"You're _still doing it_."

* * *

"That was some good pasta," said Danny, lazily. He was sprawled over Martin's couch, long legs taking up the entire thing and his feet hanging off the end of it.

"Why aren't you wearing a shirt?" Martin asked. "I thought you were cold."

"I changed my mind," Danny said sulkily, and stretched languidly. Martin noticed vaguely that really, it wasn't a bad thing that his shirt wasn't on. It wasn't as if he was ugly, or anything.

"Maybe I'll take a shower," he said. "Alone," he added pointedly. As he made his way into the bathroom, he heard an injured cry of "It was_foggy_!" behind himself.

* * *

Martin was not a fan of cold showers, unless of course they were intended to serve a purpose, but as that wasn't the case at the moment, he understandably let out a girlish scream when his shower abruptly froze.

"I'm coming!" he heard from outside. Just as Martin thought, that was kind of too much information, and wondered if he had enough time to cover his eyes, Danny crashed through the bathroom door.

"What happened?" he asked loudly. He appeared to be hiding a smirk.

"You turned on the hot water, didn't you," Martin said flatly.

"By accident," Danny told him. "You were screaming. I had to come in, in case you were dying or something. I was envisioning Janet Leigh."

"Yeah, right." Martin sighed. "Can you pass me a towel?"

"You're naked," Danny observed. He seemed slightly transfixed.

"Yes, that's something I wanted to change," Martin told him. "You're shirtless- and, hey what happened to your pants?"

"I was getting changed," Danny protested.

"Getting changed and accidentally turning on the hot water? You were getting changed in my kitchen?" Martin queried.

Danny seemed lost for words. "Shut up, Martin," he settled for. He paused. "So, you want me to leave?"

"That would be good," Martin agreed. "But please pass me a towel first."

Danny passed him a facecloth.

"A bigger one?"

Danny passed him a hand towel. He was smirking openly now. Martin decided that he hated him.

"That's really not very complimentary," he said, his voice a little forced. "Get the hell out, Taylor."

Danny held his hands up in surrender. "Well, I enjoyed the visit to your bathroom."

"Clearly," Martin observed dryly, "as you are still here."

"Gotcha," Danny said. He gazed at Martin for a moment. "Do you work out?"

* * *

The next day, Sam cornered Martin by the photocopier.

"Uh, hey," he said.

"Are you aware that Danny's in love with you?" she said, very intensely.

Martin burst into slightly hysterical laughter. "Pshaw," he said, when he'd recovered.

"No, seriously," she said. "Even Jack noticed."

"You're kidding," Martin said, and decided she was, for the sake of his sanity. Gently, he patted her on the back, and left.

* * *

"So, giant rats, huh?" Martin said.

"Yeah," Danny agreed, leaning against a wall elegantly.

"So, aren't they, like, dead yet?"

"It's only been a week, Martin."

"Again, aren't they dead yet?"

"Well, maybe, but my apartment will be full of dead rats. I want them to be cleared out first," Danny pointed out.

"It'll be a week and a day by the time you get home," Martin said practically.

"If I didn't know better, I'd swear you were trying to get rid of me," Danny said.

"Uh huh," Martin said. "So why do you think you know better?"

Danny looked at him composedly. "It's lucky I know that I enrich your life," he said wisely.

Martin paused, turning to look at Danny. "Just… please. Leave me alone while I'm naked, huh?"

"Yeah, sorry about that." Danny looked down. "Oh, right, you don't want me here while you pee?"

"Not so much," Martin agreed.

"Right." Danny looked upwards, and began to whistle tunelessly.

"Right," Martin echoed, a note of desperation in his voice. "Danny…"

"Yes?" Danny smiled brightly.

Martin sighed. "Nothing."

* * *

Martin awoke abruptly when a large weight landed on his bed. His first thought was, it's the giant killer rat tracking Danny down! Having rejected this as irrational, he sighed, and moved onto his second choice. "Go away, Danny."

"Huh?" Danny said. Martin could hear him burrowing into his pillows._Martin's _pillows.

"You're in my bed again," he pointed out.

"Yeah," Danny agreed. He slung an arm across Martin's waist. "Tired. Couldn't sleep."

"So you thought you'd wake me up. By climbing in my bed."

"I sleep better when there's someone else there," Danny objected, eyes still closed.

Martin rolled over, and turned on the light. "Come on, man, are you naked?"

"No!" Danny pinged the waistband of his boxers. "Jesus Christ, I have some dignity."

"No, you don't," said Martin bluntly. "Listen, while we're still friends and colleagues, you sleep in your own bed, got it?"

"Fine." Danny sat up, glaring at him before letting out a wide yawn. Then he tilted his head to the side. "Listen, Martin, am I wasting my time here? I mean, are you the most oblivious guy in the whole of existence or are you just not interested?" He paused. "Do you even like guys?"

Martin felt insulted. "What!" he said. "Of_course _I like guys."

Danny looked as if someone had hit him over the head with a baseball bat. "_What_?" he said. "So we…"

Martin was on a roll; he reached over to rummage through his bedside table, and pulled out a photo, of himself with his arm firmly around the waist of another man. "See! Look, it's me with a guy."

"I've _seen_ that photo!" Danny said. "It used to be on top of your TV."

"Yeah." Martin rolled his eyes. "I got over him."

"But that's your brother!" Danny's voice rose.

"It's not my brother!" Martin objected. "I'm touching his ass! Look."

"Why are you touching your brother's ass?" Danny sounded as if he was getting slightly hysterical.

"I don't even have a brother!" Exasperation was rising inside Martin's chest.

"Who the hell is that, then?" Danny asked, still sounding panicky.

"Roger," Martin said decisively.

Danny looked slightly wild. "Who the hell is Roger?"

"My ex," Martin said. "He lives in Seattle."

"What?" Danny ran a hand agitatedly through his hair. "Your - ex?"

"Yeah," Martin confirmed. "I'm gay." He hadn't said it aloud many times before. He liked being in the closet. It was warm, and dark, and not at all scary the way being out was. "I'm gay," he repeated. It sounded like he was talking about someone else, and Danny was staring at him as if he was crazy. Another matter: Danny with his golden skin and dark eyes and lean muscles, and Martin had been blocking this out for way too long. "You - didn't notice?" he ventured.

Danny looked completely floored. "What about Sam?" he asked, voice ragged.

Martin shrugged, picking at a nail. "Crisis of some kind. Also, I hadn't had sex for, like, a year." He sighed. "I can't believe we're having this conversation half-naked in my bed."

Danny was silent for a moment, biting his lip. "Great," he said, in a monotone. "So the reason you haven't responded to _anything _I've done isn't because you don't like guys. It's because you don't like_me_."

"I… didn't know you liked me." It wasn't quite the truth, if Martin thought about it. But being confronted with the actuality wasn't as scary as he'd thought it'd be.

Danny made an exasperated noise and lay back down, with a loud_flumph_.

There was a pause.

"So you do," Martin said. "Like me, I mean."

Danny groaned faintly. "God, I should really go back to my own bed right now." He began to get up, rubbing a hand tiredly through his hair.

"Don't." Martin's hand shot out to grasp onto his elbow. "Wait. I can't believe it. You like me?"

Danny had flushed a deep red. "I thought we'd established this, Martin."

Martin shook his head in disbelief, and looked dazedly into space for a moment. Then he smiled broadly, and turned to Danny, almost unable to believe what he was about to say. "So. Uh, you like me. And I like you. And we're, uh, in the same bed. So…" He took a deep breath, and put a hand on Danny's thigh. "How about it?"

Danny looked at his hand. "Huh?"

"You heard me. And you say I'm the oblivious one!"

Danny was looking at him as if Martin was slightly crazy, and he liked it. "So this whole thing… isn't unrequited."

Martin looked revolted. "Hell, no." He leaned forwards, unable to suppress a smile. "I think I've been repressing," he confided.

"Damn straight," Danny half-growled, and when they kissed, finally, after waiting for what was really a _stupidly _long time, Martin could feel that he was smiling.

After a moment, a really great moment that was soft, and warm, and tasted like sleep and coffee, Martin pulled away. "You're never going to leave my apartment, are you," he said.

Danny raised an eyebrow. "You complaining?"

Martin had to admit that he wasn't.

* * *

**THE END.**


End file.
